I Became the Owner of the Heavenly Flower Palace-Chapter 11: This Really Ends, Right?

Jincheon gave a bitter smile.

Sure, taking off the headband and showing his hair—he could go along with that. But carrying this rare-looking red orb in one hand?

These people really did love their theatrics.

But what choice did he have? Even that “Gungju” guy had said this was how things were done here.

Slide.

Jincheon lowered one hand.

Gi Seoran dipped her head, seemingly satisfied, showing her respect.

Jincheon, meanwhile, shifted his lowered hand behind his back—not because it meant anything, but simply because he didn’t know where else to put it. He was just trying to stand as stable as possible, and his hand moved naturally.

Huh?

At that moment, he caught a sharp glint in both women’s eyes.

He flinched involuntarily.

Was that... too much?

The look in their eyes had passed by quickly, but it was intense—almost alarmingly so.

Still, neither of them said anything further, and Jincheon decided to just go with it.

Whatever. Either way...

All he had to do was deliver the orb. After that, they had no real connection. Honestly, the fact that they were helping him this much was already more than he’d expected.

Besides, hadn’t the client said something like this?

“What are you gonna do about it? Take it or leave it.”

“Ahem.”

Clearing his throat, Jincheon opened his mouth.

“Let’s go.”

The two women immediately brought their hands together in a formal gesture of obedience.

“We receive your command.”

The way they answered—so perfectly in sync—gave Jincheon goosebumps.

He wasn’t a general, or some high-ranking official, and yet they were “receiving his command”?

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Just bear with it a little longer.

All he had to do was reach that palace or whatever it was. Once he handed the orb over to whoever was responsible, all this strange, tedious business would finally come to an end.

...It will end, right?

Trying to suppress the unease bubbling up inside him, Jincheon stepped forward.

Step.

He headed toward the dazzling streets, the two women trailing behind him like escorts.

Their eyes still held a cold, tense sharpness—lit with an unmistakable heat they couldn’t hide.

****

It began on one side of the street.

At first, no one paid attention.

It was close to midnight, and many of the people wandering the area were drunk.

But what they saw sobered them instantly.

“Hah!”

Gasps and startled breaths escaped.

Few had actually seen it before, but a deep, subconscious belief—a sense burned into their bones—reacted before their minds could.

And with two members of the Heavenly Flame escorting the one holding it, there was no hesitation to observe proper ritual.

Thud.

The reaction was immediate.

“We kneel before the Red Dragon’s Wrath!”

The formal phrase burst from someone’s mouth like a reflex—something closer to instinct than thought.

It washed over the street like a wave, burying the confusion and shock.

“We kneel before the Red Dragon’s Wrath!”

“Before the Red Dragon’s Wrath...!”

Strangely, though, the voices didn’t get louder—they grew quieter.

Normally, you'd expect rising volume and chaos. But instead, people closed their mouths. Lowered their voices.

And just like that, the bustling, brilliant street sank into silence.

No one spoke. No one lifted their head.

Step.

Jincheon’s footsteps echoed through the muted street.

Step by step.

Slowly. Calmly.

With the red orb in one hand, Jincheon walked forward.

The people kneeling on either side moved like ripples, spreading across the road.

And in the silence, only the sound of Jincheon’s footsteps rang out.

Step... step...

People didn’t lift their heads until after Jincheon had passed.

Each of them bit their lips. Their eyes burned with heat.

As if struggling to suppress the shock—or trying to smother the fire of some deeper emotion.

It didn’t matter whether they were men or women, young or old.

Only after Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong passed by, still walking behind Jincheon like guards, did people begin to rise to their feet.

And then, wordlessly, they began to follow.

No one had told them to.

No one had asked them to.

But as if fulfilling an obvious duty, they walked in the wake of Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

More and more joined, forming a quiet procession behind the three.

Yet the street remained almost silent.

No one spoke.

Then, one man stepped forward with both hands raised, holding something out to Gi Seoran respectfully.

It was a red outer robe.

The kind of fancy garment worn by a young dandy trying to show off—but the vivid crimson color was enough to draw everyone’s attention.

Gi Seoran accepted it.

And gently draped it over Jincheon’s shoulders.

Rustle.

Ah.

Jincheon turned his head at the sudden sensation—and was startled.

Whoa!

It wasn’t the robe itself that shocked him.

It was what he saw behind him.

A crowd...?

He hadn’t even realized how many people had gathered.

He’d expected some level of reverence. That much had been made clear by Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

And yeah, the people here were strange—in a flattering way, if he was being generous.

Even the middle-aged client who started this had been an oddball. And he’d claimed this place was “like him.”

But this?

This was something else entirely.

Kneeling people lined the path ahead.

And behind him—people he thought had already passed—were now trailing along.

What the hell is this...?

Jincheon swallowed hard.

If he couldn’t understand what this meant, he didn’t deserve to call himself a scholar.

Feels like I’ve done something really huge...

But it was far too late to stop now.

And there was no turning back.

The two women guarding him didn’t speak—but their eyes shone with a quiet pride, their expressions taut with both tension and heat.

Jincheon let go of his worries.

Well... if there’s no way out...

Step.

Half-resigned, Jincheon took another step forward.

Must be fate.

He didn’t even register the red cloak draped across his shoulders, glowing like fire.

And just like that, the tide of people that had momentarily paused surged forward again, stronger than before.

Toward that massive building standing at the end of the street—overlooking the city from above.

Toward the Palace.

A royal envoy is a messenger bearing the emperor’s personal edict.

When such an envoy presents the imperial decree, everyone must offer their highest form of respect.

Even if the envoy himself is insignificant—even, in the most extreme case, a lowly eunuch—it doesn’t matter.

Before the emperor’s letter, even the highest in the land must kneel and bow.

Because the envoy doesn’t command reverence for who he is—but for what he carries.

He doesn’t receive that obedience on his own merit. It’s an expression of submission to the emperor’s authority.

If an envoy were to overstep his bounds and act arrogant, all he’d earn is mockery ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) and scorn.

That’s why Jincheon had always thought of himself as nothing more than the one delivering this red orb—if it could still be called a mere orb at this point.

He understood the respectful honorifics and ritual bows as being directed at the orb, not himself.

But still...

Jincheon muttered silently to himself.

Even so, this much?

Now standing at the end of the street—before the towering palace gates—he couldn’t find the words to speak.

A female officer in armor, who appeared to be in charge of guarding the Palace, was already kneeling with her head bowed, waiting for him.

Flanked by subordinates—other soldiers in armor, also kneeling and bowing their heads.

“We kneel before the Red Dragon’s Wrath,” she declared in a solemn voice.

She had removed her helmet to show respect, holding it at her side. The elaborate decorations on its edge caught the light and shimmered.

Lift.

The woman raised her head.

She appeared to be in her middle years—stern and commanding—but her eyes overflowed with solemn resolve and overwhelming emotion.

And how could they not?

The return of the most noble being, impossible to deny.

And behind him, countless proud kin, following as if to protect him.

In the face of such a scene, how could one’s heart not be moved?

To miss such a moment would be a regret carried for a thousand years.

“It is an honor to guard the Red Dragon’s entrance to the Palace.”

There wasn’t an ounce of exaggeration in her words—just pure sincerity.

“Thank you,” Jincheon replied quietly.

The middle-aged officer immediately lowered her head again.

“Your words are more than I deserve.”

After a pause to steady her voice, she lifted her gaze.

“From here on, I will escort you.”

Her voice was resolute—unyielding.

Jincheon gave her a nod.

The woman rose and looked toward Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong.

“You two, return to your posts. Stay alert in case of emergency, but—”

“Wait.”

Her eyes turned toward Jincheon.

He spoke calmly and steadily.

“These two will be coming with me.”

A flicker of hesitation passed through her gaze.

Even if Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong bore the title of Heavenly Flame, entering the Palace was a different matter altogether.

Especially at such a critical moment—unexpected moves like this could not be easily permitted.

But Jincheon wasn’t about to back down.

I need them.

He needed their presence desperately.

Because the road they had just walked had been longer and more exhausting than he’d expected.

That entire distance, he’d had to keep his posture straight, terrified of dropping the orb or tripping over his own feet.

And all this right after sprinting nonstop to get here.

It wasn’t long before his whole body started aching, and by the halfway point, he had been teetering on the edge of collapse.

He even regretted putting one hand behind his back, making walking harder.

If it weren’t for those two...

It was Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong who had helped him.

Gi Seoran had gently placed her hand on his other hand—resting behind his back.

Even through the cloak, Jincheon had clearly felt it.

A warm, soft energy had flowed into him.

That gentle energy had melted the tension and fatigue from his body like snow in spring.

A moment later, Po Eunryeong had joined in—her hand touching his arm, carefully passing along a similar warmth.

It was perfect timing. Just enough to keep him steady.

Thanks to their help, Jincheon had made it here without stumbling, without needing to stop.

But if that support disappeared now?

That can’t happen.

He probably wouldn’t even make it a few steps before collapsing.

He might even faint the moment he crossed the threshold. Just the thought made his blood run cold.

And that’s when—

“I will follow your will,” the officer said.

Whose command was it that she had just received?

Though she had hesitated for a moment, she now bowed her head deeply, ashamed of even that brief doubt.

Phew...

Jincheon let out a quiet breath of relief.

He didn’t show it outwardly—nor did he have the strength to.

Slide.

The officer stepped aside.

She was making way for him.

This is it.

Gi Seoran and Po Eunryeong had said as much.

As if entering the Palace was the only resolution—and the final destination.

Now, at last, it was time for that moment: entering the Palace.

Letting out a soft breath of relief, Jincheon took a step forward.

And suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

...Come to think of it...

There were people behind him.

Quite a few, in fact.

He turned, almost unconsciously, to look.

What the—?

He knew there would be people, obviously.

But the problem was—there were far more than he had expected.

Jincheon was stunned.

Stretching as far as the eye could see—people. A mass of them, like a tide with no end in sight.